


Candies and Captains

by R_Armchair



Series: Double the Captains, Double the Fun [1]
Category: Captain Marvel (2019), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bad Sex, Candy, Captain Marvel (2019) Mid-Credits Scene, F/M, Missionary Position, No Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Spoilers, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Podfic, Podfic & Podficced Works, Podfic Length: 20-30 Minutes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-08
Updated: 2019-05-08
Packaged: 2020-02-27 21:12:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18747208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/R_Armchair/pseuds/R_Armchair
Summary: Carol and Steve share a moment.





	Candies and Captains

**Author's Note:**

> You know who sucks at summaries? Yours truly. Anyway, enjoy!
> 
> If you're interested in the audio, you can follow this link: [ Dropbox Mp3 lies here](https://www.dropbox.com/s/7jldy1k9jd4unmn/Candies%20and%20Captains.mp3?dl=0)

Carol crunched on an expired lemon drop.  Little bits of sanding sugar and pulverized candy shot out of her mouth as she chewed carelessly.  Upending the bag, she unloaded the rest while Rogers looked on horrified.

“Aren’t you concerned about your teeth?  Decent dentists aren’t exactly easy to come by,” he said, flashing a flawless grin to prove his point.

Her response was nonverbal; she simply leaned in close to his ear and crunched loudly.  There was nothing she could do, would do, had, or hadn’t tried yet that affected her body.  She remained as unchanged as the day she first set foot in Mar-Vell’s ship.  After years of a regimented diet in an effort to stay in top fitness, immortality came with the one bonus of eating whatever the fuck she wanted.

“He’s just being selfish,” Romanoff added, “you ate your way through all the peanut butter cups, and those lemon things are his favorite.  I brought them back last time I went out for supplies.  Luxuries like that are hard to come by.” She turned to Rogers.  “Saving them for an emergency or something?”

“Summoning me from across the galaxy doesn’t qualify?”  Carol crunched by his ear a second time.

“When I asked you if you were hungry, I didn’t expect you to eat all of my candy.”  He swiped spittle from his cheek.  “We were just trying to hospitable to our guest.  A proper response would be, ‘Sure, if you have anything prepared.  Maybe some soup, or a sandwich.  I don’t wish to be a bother.’”  He stepped away from her and leaned against the conference table. “Not.  ‘Bring me all your chocolate. How-hard-it-is-to-,” he paused, flinching when trying to replicate her vocabulary, “’fucking-keep-Fury-alive-you-worthless-piece-of-shit.  Captain America? More like Captain Head-Up-My-Own-Ass.’”

“I needed sugar; I’ve had a long day.”  Carol downed a glass of water that Banner had provided.  “Now please show me a place to rest.  We can discuss this shit later.”

* * *

 

It took about two solid days before Carol and Rogers could be in the same room without Romanoff mediating.  He was always trying to engage her in conversation unrelated to the current state of emergency.  Which was the reason she was here, they collectively shouldn’t focus on anything else.  Sometimes he would bring her a cup of coffee she hadn’t asked for, while ignoring Romanoff and Banner.  The man irritated the shit out of her, so mostly, she avoided him.  Today, only the women sat at a table full of spreadsheets.

“What’s your deal?  He’s trying his best to make you feel welcome.  He couldn’t be awful if he tried.  It’s in his DNA.”

“I’m allergic to narcissists.”

“They make your nose run?”  Romanoff picked up a paper, and then shredded it when she was dissatisfied with the numbers.

“No.  Once I trust them, they end up betraying me, leaving me, or dying.”  She leaned back in her chair.  “Sooo… if pretty boy intends on dying sooner rather than later, then by all means, convince him to befriend me.  Though statistically speaking he’s probably gonna die soon anyway, with that testosterone driven I’m-gonna-save-the-world-with-my-bare-man-fists mentality.”

* * *

 

Something about Earth left Carol exhausted.  More often than not, she found herself in the room they’d emptied for her.  For all the time the ‘avengers’ had spent moping around developing ‘a plan,’ they hadn’t actually come up with a workable solution.  The worst part of Earth, she thought, was her isolation.  At least she had one or two friends who’d survived back home.  Here, there was no one.  No Maria, no Fury, and no word on Monica.

She sucked on three cherry Life Savers she’d stolen from Rogers’ room when he’d run an errand that morning.  It was the only decent flavor, and clearly saved for last, having forced himself to eat all the gross ones first.  Her teeth were of no concern, but how did he avoid cavities with such a sweet tooth?  Her enjoyment of the candy was put on hold when someone knocked on the door.

“Come in,” she said, shifting the candies under her tongue.

“Hey.  I had a talk with Nat earlier.  I hope you don’t mind.  Also, it seemed like you preferred chocolate, so I picked up a couple of bars.  Some of them are dark.  Do you like dark?  I brought a milk one too,” he rustled into his messenger bag, pulling out the gifts.  “They’ve probably turned white by now.  They’re a piece offering.  Even if I haven’t actually done anything wrong.  You’ve been the one who’s…”

“What kind of apology is that?”

When her mouth stretched on the last syllable, a Life Saver shot out from her mouth and beamed him in the torso.  It stickily rolled its way down his pants, leaving a trail of liquefied red sugar and saliva.  He breathed in heavily and slicked his hair against his head.

“Why do I even bother?  Really?  What on God’s green Earth has made you dislike me so much?  If a stubborn, stuck up brat like you was Fury’s ace in the hole, then I didn’t know the man half as well as I thought,” he said, throwing the chocolate on the bed.  “We’ve ALL lost people Danvers.  All of us, every last one of us.  Stop acting like you’re the only one.”

The slamming of the metal door rang in Carol’s ears.

* * *

 

“Who was it?” Carol said, flinging the door to Rogers’s room.

“Jesus Christ!” he shouted, as he hopped on one foot and tripped on the pant leg he was trying to wiggle out of.  “Close the door.”

Sitting on the floor by his bed, he finished pulling off the pants and shirt she’d soiled with her spittle.  She kicked the door shut behind her and belly flopped onto his bed.

“Who was it for you,” she mumbled into his pillow.  “The way you said it.  It’s not like Bruce and Natasha.  You actually lost someone… like I did.”

He climbed onto the bed and propped his head on his palm.  Lying on his side, he waited until she looked up at him.  “Two actually.  One was my first love.  The eternally impeccable, astounding, intelligent Miss Peggy Carter.  Boy, was she a spitfire.  The only woman I’ve ever loved.”

“And the other?  Because you don’t seem to beat up about that one.”  She eyed him playfully and poked him on the nose.

“Carter and I never really became anything more.  I never even told her just how deeply I felt.  So when she passed from old age, after living a fulfilling life mind you, it’s not something I can begrudge her.  As for the other,” he smiled in a way that didn’t extend past his lips, forced and practiced.  “That’s private.  Something for me and that person, alone.”  Placing his crossed arms beneath his head, he stared up at the ceiling.  “So is this about Fury?” he asked cautiously.

“God no.”  The bed shook with her muffled laughter.  “He was just supposed to keep her safe.  My last line of defense after I left her a second time.”  She was the one to lie on her side this time.  “It would have never have worked out anyway.  She would have been in her 50’s by now.  But those years before… when it was good… it was real good.”  Scooting closer, she rested her chin on his shoulder.  “This was what I was worried about.  You’re too fucking nice.”

“Don’t listen to a word out of Nat’s mouth.  I’m not nearly as gentlemanly as you think I am.”

“Oh really?  I’ve been a complete asshole to you, yet you insist on bonding with me.   Because I have a feeling that I’m the only one you’ve ever let on about your second relationship to.  Gays stick together.”  She patted him gently on the chest.

“I’m not nice, Danvers.”

Before she realized what was happening, he’d rolled on top of her.  His hands pressed into the mattress beside her shoulders.  Wisps of his carefully styled hair broke free and dropped in front of his eyes.  His stubble scratched at her cheek as he lowered his mouth to her ear.

“I’ve spent the last two minutes completely preoccupied with how your breath smells like cherries.  Do you know what it’s like hearing Romanoff and Banner having sex every night?  And whenever anyone tries to leave here, we have this policy of going with a chaperone.  Like damn children.  I’m living in forced celibacy.  And I want nothing more…”  His palm slid under the t-shirt she’d started wearing around the complex.  Then he quickly removed his hand and sat up.  “But of course the first woman we trust is a lesbian.”

“Like I said, too nice.  But also stupid.”  She pushed him back down, and then straddled his hips.  “I never said I was a lesbian.  You’re the only one who gets both options?  You won’t be the first dick I’ve rode, and you won’t be the last.  I don’t even restrict myself to Terrans.  Just,” she paused for emphasis, “don’t get too attached to me.”

“I won’t make promises I can’t keep,” he said slipping her shirt over her head.

Not wanting him to fumble, she deftly removed her bra and chucked it across the room.  Now she just needed to take off her pants.  In an awkward move, she flopped backwards and lay in the space between Rogers’ parted legs.  She stuck her legs straight up in the air and began trying to wriggle her ass out of the too-tight jeans Romanoff had leant her.  Awkwardly dry humping the air, and kicking spastically, she managed to maneuver her pants to her shins.

“A little help here.”

“Now we’re even,” he said yanking her jeans off and dropping them to the floor.  “Do you know how surreal it is having a conversation with someone in just your underpants?”

“I never said you couldn’t get dressed, you were the one who crawled onto the bed with me.”

He grabbed at the back of her thighs and jerked her back in place.  She over corrected and rocketed into him, banging her teeth against his forehead.  Not missing a beat, she licked along his temple toward his ear.

“Why do I get the impression that it’s been longer for you, than it has been for me?”  His hands were still on her thighs, helping grind her into his pelvis.

“You’re just,” she held her arms out wide, “bigger than anyone one I’ve been with.  You’re huge, man.  I’m not used to it.  Trust me, I don’t mind being flung around.  I’m cool with it.  There’s a bit of a learning curve though.”

The hand that was winding its way up toward her breast stopped.  He began laughing a bright and almost youthful laugh.  “Where were you decades ago when no one would take my scrawny build seriously?  I wouldn’t have had to almost die a virgin.”

“If you acted like this anytime someone tried to fuck you, I can’t imagine you ever having made it past first base.  Now shut up already,” she said, before silencing him with her mouth.

Rogers had been right, it had been a while.  More than a while.  She was in the midst of the longest dry spell in her life.  And now, it felt like she’d entirely forgotten how to have sex.  Much less with Captain America.  As a veteran, she could appreciate the sort of hero he represented in the text books.  So, she felt like she had something to prove.  But she kept messing up.  Because, in reality, he was good at this.  The way he stroked down her waist and then gripped at her ass beneath her panties was invigorating.  It was unlike any of the ways her fellow pilots had touched her.

He wasn’t trying to prove a point, like they had.  That she was good for a fuck, but not flight.  Nor was he curious about the slight differences in her Terran anatomy.  He knew which parts would be there, and which wouldn’t.  Key parts that he began to search out.  His fingertips rolled along her hip and down her front.  The fabric of her underwear stretched and accommodated his hand when he found her clitoris.  She moaned and bore down too forcefully, squashing his genitals causing him to wince.  Her eyes were closed, so she missed his unspoken moment of discomfort.  Supporting herself by placing her hands on his chest, she began to rhythmically grind against his fluttering fingers.

She hadn’t had this much fun since Maria.  The thought came unexpectedly and almost floored her.  Sex before and after her lover had fallen in one category: Necessity.  It had been an itch, a need, a primal urge that required maintenance. Yet, none of those things applied to what was happening at that moment.  Something about Steve Rogers had left her confused.  He was in many ways the man that was recorded on film and featured on trading cards.  He’d been so romanticized by the military that she’d expected he’d be a nightmare.  Glorified as men are and women so often aren’t.

In the same way that he was the man America had reveled in, he also wasn’t.  He wore his age and exhaustion on his face.  And hot damn, he was too kind for his own good.  She kept pushing back, trying to build a scale of what he’d put up with.  Raiding his room for candy being her latest endeavor.  He was too genuinely sweet that, how in the hell did he accomplish anything?  He thought the best of everyone in every damn situation.  _That_ was a trait she’d never run across before.

If she’d learned anything, it was to never give someone the benefit of the doubt.  They’d let you down sooner or later.

“You ok?” he asked softly.

Somehow, unbeknownst to her, she’d stilled.  She’d slunk down into his arms and he’d loosely held her to his chest.  So much for being the greatest lay in Rogers’ life.

“I’m fine, I just got lost for a second.”

“We can stop if you want to,” he smoothed her sweaty hair from her face.

“Hell no.  We’re finishing what we started.” She rolled onto her back and shirked off her underwear.  “I’m not going to look back on my life a century from now and say, ‘well, shit, I could have slept with Captain America, but I pussied out.’”

He groaned unhappily before sitting up.  “Is that why you’re doing this?  Because you wanted to check me off on an all-star galactic list you were compiling?”

“Hold on,” she said, grabbing his hand.  “I was joking.  Plus you just wanted to bang me out of ‘forced celibacy.’  If you had the chance to hook up with someone, you’d probably be pounding the shit out of them right now.  Which by the way is not the way to win someone over.  I don’t know why it worked on me.”

He rolled his eyes.  “Are you even listening to yourself Danvers?  Do you think I would honestly sleep with someone strictly out of availability?  That if it had been some other woman instead of you that Fury had summoned, that I’d jump into bed with them.  Even this is a bit much for me.  It’s kind of embarrassing.  Did you miss the part about how I was already in my _twenties_ when I had sex for the first time?  And since then, I’ve always gone on at least a couple of dates before doing something like this.  Most times considerably longer.  And I would have preferred to have done that with you, but it felt like all my advances were going right over your head.”

She couldn’t think of a single time he’d flirted with her.  Perhaps, that was the problem.  All the men and women besides Maria had been direct.  Actually a good portion of her sexual encounters had begun as some sort of argument; it was her favorite means of getting riled up.  So, all of his attempts at wooing her had most likely been misread. 

He scooted down toward the foot of the bed.  Spreading her legs apart, he wedged himself in and kissed her inner thigh.

“Don’t call me Danvers.  It reminds me of Vers and I hate that name.”  She sucked in a breath as he blew against her wet skin.  “Call me Carol.”

“Alright, Carol.”  He ran the back of his finger up and down her labia.  “Are you attracted to me?  Be honest.”

“What kind of question is that?” she asked, stretching to look at him.

“A serious one.  You said you were joking, but I need to know that this has nothing to do with a title that I no longer carry.”

“God, Steve,” she covered her face with her hands in exasperation.  “Why do you have to be so needy?  No wonder hooking up is impossible for you.  Are you going to snuggle and cry into your pillow when we’re…”

Her words were clipped short when his mouth made contact with her clitoris.  The finger he’d been teasing her with easily slipped into her cunt.  Her own fingers were no longer shielding her face, but instead clutching at the threadbare comforter.  The room flooded with the smell of her excitement.  She tried to remain silent, not letting on how amazing he was making her feel.  A couple of grunts seeped out, and pretty soon moans and unintelligible phrases followed.  His free hand reached up and finally massaged at her breast that it had abandoned earlier.  Even if holding onto the sheets kept her grounded in the room, she wanted to experience the moment him.  She placed one hand over his, showing him the right amount of pressure to use.  He became gentler with her chest.  As soon as it was clear he knew what she liked, she wove her hands into his hair.  Bucking herself repeatedly into his face, she finally came with a series of sharp and ragged gasps.

“What changed your mind?” she said, kicking at his back with the heel of her foot.

“What do you mean?”  He wiped his mouth on the corner of the bedspread.

“You were like ‘we’re not gonna fuck unless you want me and not my title,’” she said in a mock-gruff voice.

He crawled back up the bed, kissing his way to her neck.  “You always talk without addressing me.  I was beginning to think you didn’t know my name.”

No matter how exhausted her limbs were, she looped her arms around his back and her legs around his hips.  She ground against his briefs, transferring her wetness to the cotton.  With very little effort or direction, Rogers removed the last vestiges of fabric between them.  Then, they both got what they wanted.

Kind of.

“Somehow, this is not what I pictured.  Shouldn’t you be throwing me around the room, pinning me to the wall, plowing me into the carpet?”

“Is this,” he stopped thrusting, “not enough for you?”

She didn’t let the lapse in movement continue, lifting her ass off the bed to hump upward into him.  “It’s fine.”

At that point, Carol found herself being hugged tightly as Rogers pulled himself into a kneeling position.  Wrapping her legs around his waist, she clung onto him when he stood up.  Placing her on the top of the dresser, he began to fuck her in earnest.  It was no longer the gentle motion that he developed on the bed.  He would completely pull his dick out, and then attempt to thrust it back in.  Sometimes, he would miss, causing her to squirm as he slipped and aimlessly put pressure on bits of skin that were usually ignored.

While he was just doing as she asked, Carol had a moment of uncertainty.  The wood of the furniture was sending a bolt of pain up her tailbone.  But she also didn’t want to admit that she’d made a mistake.  Untangling her legs from his body, she pushed off the drawer fronts with the soles of her feet.  Rogers stumbled backward onto the bed.  She heard a crash behind her but ignored it.  Finally on top again, she did something that could really only be described as bouncing.

“You okay in there, Steve?” Romanoff called from somewhere else in the house.

“Dandy,” he squeaked out, trying to normalize his tone.

This was the last straw for Carol.  When he pulled her into a kiss, she bit his tongue.  It was one thing to be constantly speaking nonsense, it was entirely another to talk to someone else with his dick in her.  She angrily pushed his hands off of her, letting her genitalia and thighs be the only places their flesh met.

“You sure?”  Romanoff called again.

“Just knocked...”

Carol began thrusting her hips forward and rubbing her fingers against the folds hiding her clitoris.

“Something over,” he finished, hovering his hands near her body while she swatted them away with her free hand.

Footsteps echoed as Romanoff approached the room.  “Come on, Steve.  I know you.  Don’t start bottling things up and taking it out in private.”

Carol would have liked to have said that it was a show.  That she had been very intentional with what happened next.  But she wasn’t.  She’d become too distracted to keep dodging Rogers, so he finally managed to grab hold of her ass.  The orgasm came with poor timing, and louder than she would have liked.  She let out a deep groan and a few whimpers that were positively audible by the person on the other side of the door.

Once the aftershocks were gone, she began to go limp.  He gingerly rolled her onto her back.  Fucking and kissing, kissing and fucking.  The way he’d resumed gently making love to her felt endless.  Not succumbing to their exhaustion, her limbs had a will of their own.  They wrapped around his back and her fingers tangled into his hair.  This was fine too.  Of course it was.  An orgasm came and went with very little fanfare, but brought all of the internal fireworks.  She wondered if he’d even noticed when she’d clenched and shuddered around him.

Even if it had seemed like a distant impossibility, his stamina ran out.  He came with a few tempered grunts and uneven thrusts of his pelvis.  When he lay down and curled around her, she considered getting up solely because she knew it would irritate him.  Instead she rolled over and tucked her chin against his shoulder, where she’d had it before all of this had begun.

“That wasn’t so bad,” she said blithely.

* * *

 

Rogers strode into the conference room and began swiping at the computer screens that Banner had been mindlessly staring at.  Some spiel about renewed vigor and a new positive outlook spilled endlessly from the taller man’s mouth.  Frustrated, and developing a headache, Banner left.

When he entered the kitchen, he found Romanoff filling a ceramic teapot with lavender tea.  She handed him an empty cup while they waited for the drink to steep.

“What’s gotten in to Steve?  He’s like a one man show of vitality recently.  These past weeks he’s been morose and then these last few days he was uncharacteristically snippy,” he said, pinching the bridge of his nose.  “I can’t keep up with him.”

“You really don’t know?”  Romanoff rested her chin on her fist and grinned.

“If I knew, I wouldn’t be asking.”

“Oh Doc, can’t you put two and two together.  What changed last week?”

“We met Carol.  But I don’t see how one cog in the machine can make him become so unbearable.”

She poured steaming liquid into two cups.  “He’s gettin’ laid, Bruce.”

 


End file.
